


The Hobbit Who Would Be King

by Starkindler



Series: A Hobbit Ruling Erebor [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkindler/pseuds/Starkindler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mountain decides that there is only one who is worthy to rule Erebor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hobbit Who Would Be King

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/702.html?thread=372670#t372670) from the HKM.

After Thorin was healed enough to move around with relative ease, heading into Erebor to finally take a closer look and set himself on the throne that was rightfully his should have been simple compared to everything that they'd been through in the last several months.

 

 _Should have been_ were the key words.

 

The reality of the situation was that something older, something aware, something magical was happening inside the Mountain, and the moment he sat upon the throne, said throne grew so hot, so quickly, that Thorin yelped and jumped off it.

 

Bilbo heard a rumble from above and he reached out and pulled Thorin away as several smallish rocks tumbled downward, toward where he was standing, getting him out of the way barely in time.

 

Thorin looked down at him and nodded. "Thank you," he said, rubbing his skin and wincing.

 

Bilbo turned his arm over and frowned at the pinking skin. "You've been burned! How is that possible?"

 

"I know not. Once I sat upon the throne, it grew scorching in almost an instant," Thorin said, gamely accepting Óin's examination.

 

Bilbo stepped forward carefully, Arkenstone in hand, careful to keep an eye on the ceiling. When he reached the throne without incident, he carefully reached out, ignoring the protests of the others behind him, tapping the stone quickly. He felt nothing warm, so he tried again, keeping his fingers there a little longer. He frowned and then placed his whole hand on the throne. "It's quite cool now."

 

Climbing on top of it, he reached up on his toes and slid the Arkenstone back into its place at the top of the throne. If anything, the stone grew even brighter, pulsating several times before dimming back to its usual brilliance.

 

Sliding back down, he sat on the seat of the throne, kicking his legs a bit, waiting, but nothing happened. He looked up at Thorin and shrugged. "Whatever it was, it seems fine now."

 

Thorin stepped forward cautiously as Bilbo hopped off, and he reached out to touch the throne. Hissing, he pulled his hand back quickly. "Hotter than fire."

 

Bilbo sat his hand down on the same spot and shook his head. "I only feel cool stone."

 

Thorin frowned and glared down at him, as if it were somehow his fault, and Bilbo huffed and glared right back. "Find Gandalf. Perhaps he can discover what the problem is. Until then, we will have to simply hold the crowning elsewhere."

 

The entire group wandered out of the throne room and over to one of the side rooms, where the king usually held meetings with his council. Thorin sat down in one of the chairs there, and it promptly shattered under him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

 

"Uncle!" Fíli and Kíli yelled, rushing over to help him.

 

"That chair is solid stone. There is no way that should have happened," Balin said, frowning. The others checked another chair for any flaws, and Thorin sat down in it gently, once they deemed it safe.

 

All seemed well until the others stepped back, and the chair cracked and shattered.

 

"What is going on here?" Thorin roared, glancing up at the ceiling, glaring at nothing in particular. He strode over to what was the king's throne and reached out, howling with rage and pain as the burns on his hand got burns.

 

"Come, we should leave the Mountain until Gandalf can be found," Dwalin said, glancing around cautiously as he pulled Thorin toward the other door.

 

They rushed down the stairs, as best as they were able, what with the stairs crumbling under Thorin's feet as he walked, and they made it outside without any more incidents.

 

It was nearly two hours before Gandalf could be tracked down and returned to them.

 

"Now, what is this?" he asked, walking inside the tent to see Thorin with bandages on one hand, glaring at the ground.

 

"Every time Thorin has tried to sit on or touch the throne, it burns him," Bilbo explained. "He also nearly got hit in the head with stone, and two chairs that were otherwise fine shattered under him when he sat upon them. The second throne in the council room also burned him, and the stairs crumbled under his feet."

 

"Did anyone else try to sit in the throne or touch it?" Gandalf asked, scratching his fingers through his beard, a curious glint lighting his eye.

 

Bilbo mentally rolled his eyes as he said, "I was able to touch it without injury, and I was able to climb upon the throne to replace the Arkenstone, and sit in it without issue."

 

"Strange," Gandalf murmured. "Did anyone else try to sit in the throne or touch it?"

 

The others shook their heads, and Gandalf hummed. "Come. Let's return to the Mountain, and see if we can discover what the problem is."

 

Everyone followed Gandalf back into the Mountain and into the throne room. When Thorin stepped forward, there was an ominous rumble from above, and he stepped back quickly. The sound ceased as soon as he did. "This is idiocy. How am I to rule, if I cannot get near the throne?" he snapped.

 

"Bilbo, you try," Gandalf said.

 

Bilbo cautiously stepped forward again and reached the throne without issue, sitting upon it. "It's fine."

 

Gandalf motioned him to move aside and turned to Fíli. "Simply try to touch it. Bilbo, stay close. I do not think rock will drop if you are nearby."

 

Confused as to why that was possible, Bilbo moved away from the throne but still stayed close, as Fíli came up and touched the throne. "Nothing."

 

The others tried one by one, and they could touch the throne without issue. Gandalf sighed as he came up himself and ran his hand over it. "So, the only one with issues is the one who would sit upon it as king..."

 

Then he closed his eyes and began whispering under his breath, while the others watched as minutes passed. "Well, now, this is most curious," he murmured finally, looking at Thorin. "Are there any stories about the origins of Erebor, and how the line of Durin came to be the ruling line here?"

 

Thorin nodded. "The legends say that the Durins were not the only royalty to come to build a new home here. When the first passages were developed, and we were able to inhabit it, they attempted to choose a king among them. However..." His eyes grew wide. "When the other two tried to sit upon the throne fashioned there, they were burned. Only he who was of the line of Durin could sit upon it, and he would be king."

 

Huffing, he glared at Gandalf. "Are you telling me this Mountain does not see me as worthy to be king?! I _am_ of Durin's line!"

 

Gandalf nodded. "It does not speak, not in the sense that we do, but there is some ancient magic within this Mountain and within the Arkenstone itself that makes it sentient, and it is telling me there is another who is more worthy of ruling Erebor."

 

"Did it say who?" Thorin asked.

 

"No, but one way to find out is for others to sit upon the throne, with the intent in mind of becoming King Under the Mountain. It will at least give us a place to start."

 

So furious steam might as well be coming out of Thorin's ears with the same intensity of a boiling kettle, he nodded and folded his arms over his chest. "Fíli, you try. You are my heir, after all."

 

"I think I will settle for touching the throne," Fíli said, looking at it worriedly. And he was right to do so, as his hand snapped back almost as soon as he touched it. "Hot!"

 

One by one, the entire company, save Bilbo, touched it with intent to become king, only to snatch their hand back. Once Ori, the last of them, had touched it with little success, Thorin snarled. "This is ridiculous. Are you telling me there is one out there in Dain's army that is more worthy? Perhaps Dain himself?"

 

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Gandalf said, looking down at Bilbo. "Why do you not try?"

 

" _Me_?" Bilbo squeaked, stepping back.

 

"Yes, _you._ You were part of the company as well, and responsible for getting Smaug to leave the Mountain. Simply touch the chair with the intention of putting yourself on the throne as king. It does not matter if you truly want it or not."

 

"That is true," Ori piped up, "because I certainly did not want it _at all_ , and it still burned me."

 

Bilbo smiled wanly at the youngest of the Company's Dwarves, and he stepped forward with a deep breath, reaching out with a hand as he thought repeatedly _Bilbo Baggins, King Under the Mountain_. He did not register that his entire hand was settled upon the throne's arm until Thorin started yelling.

 

"That is ridiculous. You're telling me that a mere _Halfling_ is more worthy of ruling Erebor that I am? After everything I have been through, a _Hobbit_ is the one who is supposed to rule over Dwarves? Do you understand how ridiculous that sounds?"

 

Bilbo flinched, hurt by the way Thorin was referring to his race, as though he were something horrible.

 

"Enough!" Gandalf yelled, and Thorin stormed away.

 

Bilbo winced as pieces of rock, not large enough to cause serious harm, dropped down on top of Thorin. "Stop. Don't hurt him, please," he murmured, and the rumbling stopped, allowing Thorin to stalk off.

 

The others were staring at him, dumbfounded. "What? It's not like any of this is my doing," Bilbo snapped, removing his hand from the throne and stalking off in the direction Thorin went, shoving his way through his companions.

 

Bilbo found his way outside and he climbed onto rocks off to the side, hiding himself as best he could. Gandalf found him there about an hour later.

 

Bilbo wiped at his wet face and took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's not my fault. He doesn't have to be so mean."

 

"No, he does not. He is angry and hurt, but I don't believe it is at you. However, it is easy for him to take it out on you, which is not right, but Thorin is passionate and prone to do foolish things from time to time. Where do you think Kíli gets it from?"

 

Bilbo chuckled at that. "Why do you think the Mountain is doing this?"

 

"I know not. Thorin is having some of Dain's people try it, those of the royal lines as well, including Dain."

 

"You do not think they will be successful," Bilbo said.

 

"I think there will be many with burned hands and lumps on their heads," Gandalf murmured, wrapping an arm around Bilbo's shoulders.

 

"I do not want to rule Erebor," Bilbo said, resting his head against Gandalf's chest.

 

"I know you don't. We'll see if we can get the Mountain to see reason."

 

"You don't think you will be successful," Bilbo said. Again, it wasn't a question.

 

Gandalf shook his head. "No. It has chosen you, and while it has some sentience, I do not believe it will take into account what you or anyone else wishes."

 

Bilbo sighed and closed his eyes, taking comfort in his friend.

 

~*~

 

Eight days later, the entire Company had gathered after another one of Thorin's unsuccessful trips into the Mountain.

 

"There has to be a way around this blasted Mountain's idiocy!" Thorin roared, glaring up at it. They were standing outside, because every time he attempted to do something useful, something broke, shattered, crumbled, dropped nearly on top of him, tripped him up, or otherwise tried to trap him in cold, dark places. It was no better for anyone else who had gone in with the intent of becoming king. Those who hadn't were permitted inside without trouble, and were working on taking stock of the damage and making lists of what needed to be done.

 

"I don't see a way around it. You yourself said the heart of the Mountain is the Arkenstone, and it and the spirit of the Mountain have decided that Bilbo is the only one who has the right to rule," Gandalf said, leaning heavily against his staff, exhausted with having to deal with Thorin's tantrums.

 

"He gave the Arkenstone away, to those who would never inhabit the Mountain!" Thorin pointed out, looking smug as if that proved something. Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what, but he also really didn't care at this point. Thorin had been even more rude and obnoxious in the last eight days than he had been at the beginning of their journey, and Bilbo was _done_ with dealing with him and his bad behavior. If Thorin were a bit shorter or he a bit taller, Bilbo would have had him by the ear by now and in the middle of giving him a verbal blistering for it.

 

"He made an exchange, knowing you would never allow it to leave, and would trade it for part of his share of the gold, which means it would return to its rightful place, the Men and Elves would get the gold they desired, and he would not see your life spill out of your body in a war with peoples you had no business warring with," Gandalf snapped back, glaring at him from under those eyebrows, which Bilbo thought had gotten bushier since the beginning of their journey, if that was indeed possible. "The Arkenstone and the Mountain are somewhat sentient and magical, and they likely knew of his plan all along and approved.

 

"Now, you're going to have to learn to live with it. I have spoken with it as much as I could, and it will not change its mind. As of this moment, it will not accept you or any Dwarf as its ruler. It has chosen Bilbo, for whatever reason it deemed fit. The only ones it will allow to sit upon Erebor's throne is him, and whoever he would choose for a spouse."

 

Bilbo was idly wondering how he ever managed to get himself into these kinds of situations, and so he missed the gleam in Thorin's eyes while Gandalf was blathering on about marriage. His eyebrows shot up at Thorin's next words.

 

"That's it!"

 

Bilbo frowned and looked at the stubborn Dwarf-who-would-be-king-if-his-bloody-Mountan-didn't-think-he-was-an-idiot. "What's it?"

 

"You'll marry me, and be my Consort. I will get my throne back, you will rule by my side as an equal, and the Mountain will accept the Dwarrows back into Erebor!" Thorin smiled smugly and turned to Balin. "Begin making preparations."

 

"Wait!" Bilbo shouted at the top of his lungs, glaring at them all until they froze and quieted. "Now that I have your attention... _What?!"_

 

"Marriage. It is the only solution. We will bind our lives together. You will live with me here, in my chambers, and we will rule the Mountain. It will satisfy the Mountain's requirement that you rule over it, and will allow my people to come home." Thorin looked at him as if he dared Bilbo to object.

 

"I most certainly will not!" Bilbo snapped, glaring right back at him. "Why in the world would I marry a Dwarf who looks at me as if I am something disgusting on the bottom of his boot? Why would I marry a Dwarf who I saved, multiple times, mind you, from death or imprisonment, who still thinks that I would steal from him for my own gain or to hurt him? I outwitted Trolls, saved you from an Orc's blade when he would take your head, saved your entire Company from the spiders when none of you would listen, especially not you, saved you from Thranduil's bloody cells, battled wits with a dragon that would not think much of me as a mid-morning snack, managed to save your sorry arse from a pummeling from both Men and Elves, when it was our bloody fault in the first place that Lake-town was half destroyed, and then I saved the lives of your nephews and yourself from Azog, killing him myself when he had the perfect opportunity to end you! And still you doubted me! Still you look at me with anger and betrayal, when you have your bloody stone back. Give me one good reason why I should even consider it?"

 

"You would deny me my home after all this?" Thorin asked quietly.

 

"You would deny me mine. You expect much from me, Thorin Oakenshield, when you have given so little," Bilbo said, glaring at everyone who was watching them fight openly. They had manage to gain quite a crowd of Dwarves, Men, and Elves. "Come here." He grabbed Thorin's hand and dragged him away from everyone, far enough that even the Elves with their hearing would have difficulty hearing them.

 

Feeling a bit calmer, Bilbo let go of his hand and turned back to him. "You're asking me to give up my entire life, to never see my home or my lands again. Why should I do that for a Dwarf who does not care for me at all? Who holds nothing but anger and hatred for me?" he asked quietly. "If I stay here and do what you ask, I can never go back."

 

Thorin sighed and sat down on the ground, facing away from the crowd. "I do _not_ hate you, nor am I truly angry with _you._ I am... frustrated with the situation. We've lived in exile for over a hundred years, hungry and homeless, sometimes barely managing to scrounge together enough for our people. We lost young children to starvation and illness many times. It was only recently that our settlement in the Blue Mountains had become more plentiful, and there was less hunger or worry about where our next meal was coming from."

 

He motioned toward the Mountain. "This was a chance to get back what we once had. A home. Wealth that meant no one would have to suffer hunger or homelessness again. So those like Nori would not feel the need to steal so that their siblings, especially the young ones, would have food in their bellies every night."

 

"Now the Mountain that was my home and my comfort, that was my dream, is telling me that though I am a Durin and the king of my people, I am not allowed to hold the throne on my own. I am angry because this has all been for nothing."

 

Bilbo sat down next to him and rested his chin on his knees. "You do not love me."

 

"And you do not love me," Thorin replied. "I think you and I care for each other greatly, as close friends would. Otherwise we would not argue and hurt each other as we do."

 

"No, we could not hurt one another nearly so much if we did not care," Bilbo said with a sigh. After several minutes of silence, he said, "If I do this, I have some conditions."

 

"I am listening," Thorin said, turning his head to look down at Bilbo.  
  


"First, someone will have to go back to the Shire and bring me my belongings. There are many things that are precious to me, because they belonged to my parents, and I will not leave them behind."

 

"I can do that. A company will be returning to Ered Luin to begin moving the caravans, and I could order some to bring what you wish. And perhaps we can convince Gandalf to help smooth the way," Thorin said.

 

"Oh, he bloody well better. He got both of us into this mess by insisting that I go on this quest," Bilbo said, huffing loudly. "Second, I want a terrace garden as part of our chambers. I don't care how you get it done, but I want one. A big one. Where I can grow flowers and trees and fruits and vegetables. With a tool shed and a hothouse for certain things that won't do well in this climate. You cannot ask me to stay here and take everything away from me that makes me who I am."

 

"There is a set of rooms in the royal halls that has a balcony attached. I can have it extended to the size you wish, as soon as the first caravans arrive. We are in need of engineers and builders. Dain has loaned us some, those who came with the army, but they first need to assess the damages done to the main halls and entrances, and get to work on opening up the mines and other residences. It will be a cold winter, and we need shelter," Thorin said.

 

"That is understandable, and what I would expect. The needs of our people would have to come first, particularly in these first months." Bilbo sighed then and fidgeted a bit. "As you know by now, Hobbits are creatures of comfort and pleasure. We rarely do things that don't give us pleasure or make our lives more comfortable. Good food, warm, comfortable homes, a good book...sex good enough to curl the hair on our feet." A smirk played on Bilbo's face as Thorin choked on his own spit.

 

"Go on," Thorin said hoarsely after he quit coughing. "You were saying."

 

"Hobbits require sex. We enjoy it greatly, and before marriage, we take lovers whenever we feel the desire to do so, which is often. While I made do with my own hand on the journey, I will not and cannot live without sex for the rest of my life. I know that Dwarves only marry once, and they're absolutely faithful, but I have to ask, is this going to be a problem for you, having sex with me?"

 

Thorin cleared his throat and Bilbo looked over to see the Dwarf's face had flushed red. "I find myself in need of that particular activity myself, so I do not see that as being a problem." He looked Bilbo over. "You are not...unattractive to me."

 

Bilbo flushed a bit at that, but went on. "One other thing, though I'm certain there will be many things which will need to be discussed later on, but for now, these will do. I need someone to guide me through everything I need to know about helping you to rule. We both know the Mountain will get very tetchy if you try to take over without consulting me and leave me as a mere figurehead. So I need to know everything about Dwarf culture and laws, so I am better able to help you rule. And that includes teaching me your language."

 

Thorin stiffened a bit at that, a natural reflex to the subject, Bilbo guessed, so he took no offense, but then he nodded. "You are correct about that. Balin would be the best to guide you in your studies, I think. Dwalin will take over your lessons for sword and ax fighting, and Kíli will aid you in mastering long range weaponry... Fíli would do well with teaching you knife work."

 

Before Bilbo could raise a protest, Thorin held up a hand. "If you are to rule, before you can send out Dwarrows to fight for your causes, you should know something about fighting itself. You have seen battle, and you have fought valiantly...I nor my nephews would be here without you – but you should know how to wield the weapons that your subjects wield in battle in your name."

 

Sighing, Bilbo nodded and looked out over the desolation. "Very well. I will take the lessons. I will also be the one who deals with the Elves and any treaties with them. While I understand your anger toward Thranduil, and do agree with you on his failings as a decent person regardless of his race, as of now, we need all the help we can get. That includes hunting and foraging in Thranduil's woods.

 

"I do understand why he refused to try to remove the dragon at the time of the attack. Smaug was young, full of energy, and angry, and likely all of them would have died before they could get near enough to cause him any kind of damage. However, he left your people wounded and dying, left them to wander and starve, without giving any kind of aid. Believe me, I understand your anger and hatred for him. But at the moment, we need him and his resources." This was all said in a whisper into Thorin's ear, to ensure none of the Elves could hear. "He, however, can deal with the bloody spiders on his own. It's his own fault for allowing them to get such a stronghold on the woods in the first place."

 

At that Thorin chuckled, the first he had heard in weeks, and Bilbo smiled at the sound. "You may deal with the Elves. Otherwise, we may have another war on our hands."

 

"So we are in agreement?" Bilbo asked, resting his hand on Thorin's.

 

Thorin threaded their fingers together and squeezed his hand. "We are. For what it is worth, I am sorry that you will not be going home as you wish."

 

Bilbo leaned into Thorin, resting his head on his shoulder. "I am as well, but after everything we have been through, I will not see your people displaced from their home once more because the Mountain decides to be difficult."

 

Thorin kissed the top of his head. "Thank you."

 

After several minutes of sitting quietly, Bilbo sighed and stood up. "We might as well go and get everything in motion." He reached out, smiling when Thorin took his hand.

 

~*~

 

The wedding ceremony was a simple but large affair, with all the Elves, Men, and Dwarves lingering around the Mountain to witness it. They married just outside the doors of Erebor, sharing an awkward first kiss in front of everyone before being led to the celebration of their union.

 

They were given a tent to themselves that night, complete with comfortable bedding, wash basins, plenty of water, and a full bottle of oil.

 

All of those things got good use throughout the night and early morning, and Bilbo couldn't help but laugh when Kíli and Fíli couldn't look at either of them without turning bright red. Even Dwalin looked a little flushed.

 

"Perhaps we were a little loud?" Bilbo asked as Ori turned bright red and fled the other way when they ran into one another.

 

"You have quite a set of lungs on you for one so small," Thorin replied, smirking at him.

 

"You're not exactly the quietest Dwarf I've ever met," Bilbo said, elbowing him slightly. Then he sighed. "All right, let's go in there and see if this worked." Taking Thorin's hand, he led the way into the Mountain, and into the throne room, where the second throne from the council room had been brought to sit along side the main throne.

 

Sighing, he sat down upon the second throne and closed his eyes, imploring the Mountain to allow Thorin to be crowned King, as they were married and would share the rule equally, with his own title being the King's Consort – he steadfastly put his foot down about not being called Queen. He also thought about how he did not know how to rule on his own, or as the main leader, but Thorin would always seek his council on matters concerning the Mountain and their people.

 

When he felt a slight warming under his hand, a clear response, he nodded at Thorin to try the throne. They had gathered a crowd, and all watched with bated breath as Thorin approached the throne and sat down upon it, shoulders slumping with relief when the stone beneath accepted him.

 

The crowning of the King and the King's Consort took place that very evening, much to the relief of all. The celebration lasted long into the night, with music and dancing, food and wine that was brought up from the farms from South of the Long Lake and hunted within the forests of Mirkwood.

 

There was still so much to do, from sending caravans to beginning restoration of the Dwarf-kingdom, to Bilbo and Thorin learning to live with one another as husbands.

 

 

This was only their beginning.


End file.
